Personal Vendettas
by splash1998
Summary: Perhaps it's because nature is actually horrible, or maybe just because God has personal vendettas against sarcastic, babbling idiots. He gets all the crap; Lydia not liking him, Scott being a werewolf...but making the sour wolf alpha himself attack him? Something's serious messed up the man's upstairs' head. Sterek. One-shot.


**Just came up with idea and had to put it on here! Laptop is broke though - so I haven't actually written anymore for my other stories just yet. It's very sad and I'm very depressed.**

**This is Sterek because they are awesome together!**

**Hope you like:)**

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**Personal Vendettas:**

Perhaps it's because nature is actually horrible, or maybe it's just because him in general, and God has personal vendettas against sarcastic, babbling idiots. Yeah, if Stiles had to choose, he'd pick the 'just him' one in a heart beat. Because - God does have a personal vendetta against him.

Maybe it's the company he keeps around. Werewolves. Fun things, aren't they? Throw you into walls when in wolfed out mode, and then get out of it when they come back to being human because they don't FREAKING remember. Or how about the fact they sniff you and touch you to make you one of them, and then completely shove it back in your face when you don't cook them the right type of cookies that day. OR how they tease him about being human, no hunting abilities or immunity - he's gotta hand it to Lydia though, she puts up with Jackson's jackassness - and he is most certainly not going to become one of the Hairy Back Mary gang and gain fangs and claws. No thank you.

But, that's just how God works. They say he works in mysterious ways? Piss off does he! He aims for the weak ones and picks on them. Then they find out he's doing it, and he keeps picking on them. Mysterious ways Stiles' ass. Of course God is picking on him.

But tonight, it really showed how much of a frigging asshole the man upstairs is. Derek Hale, full on attacking him and sending him to the floor with claws leaving little scratches all down his body. Call him crazy, but Derek Hale refines from being up close and personal with pack members. So why did Stiles suddenly get clawed? Not particularly sure, but Stiles is working on it while cleaning the small scratches with antiseptic. Freaking canes like a bitch, but it's better then it getting infected. At least Stiles is using his brain. He's not sure if Derek has one - but if the sour wolf asks, Stiles did not say that. At all. Because if Derek found out he did, he'd throw him against a wall and either growl, frown, glare, glower or snap out the words, 'I'll rip your throat out. With my teeth.' Yeah, like that one never gets over played.

Stiles hisses. He decides that he isn't going to talk to the alpha himself until he apologizes about being a complete and utter knows it's a little far fetched, but what are hopes and dreams for if not to be far fetched? Like Lydia. She used to be his hope and dream, and she was so far fetched that he was in pain every time he saw Jackson and her make out. But now, he has his own sexy crush to feast his eyes on. Chris Hemsworth in Thor. And Stiles is not gay. Well, maybe he is a little. But wouldn't everyone turn for a piece of Chris Hemsworth's ass? Stiles would! See, God's making life a little bit fairer. If only Stiles isn't cleaning his cuts and instead lying on his bed with popcorn.

There comes a rap on the window, which is now locked and the blinds now down because he doesn't want to see a wofly face. He decides to ignore it until there's a knock at the front door. He slides from his desk chair, putting down the antiseptic and tissues he had been using, doing a Derek and wearing no shirt. When he opens the door, he's surprised to see Peter Hale standing on his porch, looking casual with his hands in his jeans pocket and looking up at the porch roof. God seriously needs to tell Stiles his problem right now.

"What?" He says, or more like snaps at the elder wolf because he's not in the fricking mood.

Peter laughs. "Ouch, Stiles, no need to be hostile."

"I have every right to be hostile since you tried to kill Lydia and threatened me," Stiles says. "And sorry, this isn't a really good time. Come back never."

"Ah, don't close the door, Stiles," Peter says, waving a finger. That finger Stiles just wants to bite off and throw it in his face and say ha, showed you, whore. "I'm here in favor of my nephew."

"Well, tell your asshole of a nephew that if he wants to apologize, tell him to come do it himself," Stiles answers. "Now, go away."

"Look, he didn't mean it, Stiles," Peter says quickly. Is Peter sticking up for Derek? Who by the way slit said old alpha's throat? "He needs you over. Right away."

"Uh, excuse me?" Stiles asks. Did he just hear Peter right? Derek wants him over? After doing that? Don't think so. "No thank you."

Peter sighs. "I knew this wouldn't be easy."

"Huh?" Stiles notices that Peter's raised his arm. "Don't you even-"

Too late. Boom. That's gonna hurt. Blackness clouds his vision as he falls to the floor with a thud. You're a bitch, God!

* * *

"I told you not to knock him out!" Derek yells when he sees Peter with Stiles, who is drooling unattractively on Peter's cotton v-neck. "Put him on the sofa."

Peter is muttering, "You'd think I'd get a thank you for my kindness after he ripped my throat out, but no..."

"Probably because you're an asshole," Stiles croaks, eyes cracking open.

His head hurts. Like a bitch. Like a virgin's hole does after having sex for the first time, and it's got that burning and it won't piss off. Peter has frozen next to him, looking down at him and smiling. And then Stiles sees him. Derek.

Who, obviously, is all frowny and growly and looking at Peter as if wanting to kill him. For a second time. Really, Derek needs to sort out his anger issues. First, trying to kill Scott. Then threatening to kill him. Then trying to kill Jackson. Then killing Peter. Then wanting to kill Lydia. Then biting Allison's mom. Then trying to kill Jackson... Does anybody see a pattern here or is just him? Okay, so it's just him. Thanks a bunch, God!

"Really? Kidnap me? For all the ways to get me here, you kidnap me?" He blasts at the sour wolf, but instantly regrets it because the burning is stronger then ever. "Ah, shit!" He clutches his head.

"How frigging hard did you hit him, Peter?" Derek snaps at his uncle, growling.

"Why you having a go at me for? I got my instructions pretty clear. Bring Stiles to Hale house. I did. What is your problem?" Peter says to him.

Stiles clutches his head and glares at the elder Hale. "You are a complete and utter dick, you know that?" He holds his hand up when Derek goes to speak. "No, I'm actually not talking to you. You frigging kidnapped me! And all so I would talk to you?! Because that's not illegal and totally rude! And, FYI, I don't know what I did to deserve all these scratches! I did nothing! Nothing! Well, I probably pissed you off, but that's what I do all the time and all you do is snap at me-"

"My body was begging to mark you," Derek interrupts.

"Mark me? In what way?" Stiles asks, then thinks. Why did he have to been in love with this prick? Why couldn't he just be in love with someone else? God really hates him. Wait a min... "Why would you want to mark me? I'm not your mate."

And get this, Derek whines. Like full on whines. "Don't say that. You are."

"Huh? Can I get the memo next time?"

Peter is long gone, and now it's just Derek and Stiles, the mates. God seriously has some jumped up shit going on in his head. This man before him hates him. Has hated him ever since they met one another in the forest that day. Then - well, for Stiles, anyway - something changed. Stiles started to love the sour wolf. And his growliness, and his frown, and his snapping and threats/

Derek whimpers and falls to the floor, jerking in pain.

"Derek? Oh my - Derek?!"

Stiles rushes forwards and cradles the wolf to his chest, so his head is in his lap. He starts stroking it as Derek continues to whimper, but quieter. He is shivering as well, and now Stiles is really freaking worried. What was that? That shit isn't real! God, for the love of all that's holy, would you please stop?!

"Derek? Are you okay now? Please say you're okay so I can yell at you some more. Please? What was that?"

Derek whimpers again. "M-my wolf i-is begging me t-t-oo claim my mate. I-it h-hurts, Stiles. It hurts so bad."

Stiles doesn't know what possesses him, but he swoops down and presses a kiss to Derek's forehead and strokes his hair faster, hoping it will calm the alpha down.

"S-Stiles?" Derek shivers again. "Do you like me?"

"Like you? Sour wolf, we're barely friends."

WRONG FREAKING THING TO SAY, WANKSTAIN! No joking around with this shit! Derk whimpers and his body starts to jerk and thrash like his wolf is trying to get out and he's trying so hard to keep it down. He wants to claim his mate. Stiles, who's his mate. Stiles loves Derek, and just to be with him is cool and so, so great. Like in the same room as him.

"Sour wolf, I've loved you ever since you smiled at me that once at Deaton's," Stiles pronounces. There. He's said it. Take that, man upstairs! "Please don't be in pain any more. You know that you can claim me now. I'm more then happy to be your mate."

Derek's head perks up but he's still whimpering. "Really? You love me? And you're more then happy to be my mate?"

Stiles nods. "What do you have to do?"

"There's a danger of me hurting you though," Derek whimpers. "And I don't want to hurt you, Stiles, never."

Stiles splutters. "Really? Wow! Okay, so you didn't throw me into multiple walls, or hit my head on my jeep dashboard, or scratch me to pieces right where we are sitting?"

Whimpers erupt from Derk and he sits up and turns around. He has started to gain the extra facial hair and ears, and teeth and eyes that comes with wolfing out. Derek is so hot when he comes back from wolfing out. He comes back all sweaty and it's sooo good to watch him change. Not that Stiles ever actually does.

"Stiles," Derek's gruff voice says. "Can I claim you now? I have to bite you on your left shoulder. It won't turn you, but it might hurt."

Stiles nods. His voice is thick with emotion. "I just want you out of pain, Derek."

With that, Derek launches himself at Stiles. Their lips meet in a very lip bruising kiss that makes Stiles' insides melt as his hands go round Derek's neck, and now he's on the floor with Derek on top of him. Their lips meet again, and Stiles can feel the fangs with his tongue, and can feel the extra facial hair against his face as it brushes against his. He knows Derek needs to do this to be out of pain. So he lets him.

He feels claws digging in to his leg, piercing the skin and making him bleed. Okay, so ow! Derek doesn't stop, because he's too far gone, too far into it, but Stiles' leg is ruining it for him. Derek is now kissing Stiles' neck, running his tongue up and down the curve of it, tasting the pale flesh that is there. It feels fantastic! Stiles doesn't know why he has came right there and then...oh, right! Because of his leg!

Derek's fangs brush against his neck, and he steads Stiles' quivering body as he sinks his fangs in. Stiles whimpers in pain and starts to move around a bit to get away from that pain, a human reflex. Derek finally lets up, and sniffs the air before his eyes go wide.

"NO!" Derek exclaims, looking at Stiles' bloody thigh as he shot up off the ground. "Stilese, why didn't you stop me? Gosh, I hurt you!" He hit the wall in frustration, breaking it.

"Derek!" Stiles calls but the wolf doesn't listen. "Derek, listen to me!"

What does the wolf frigging do? Only start having a panic attack. All right, Stiles.

"Derek, breathe," Stiles says, coming off the ground to stand in front of Derek. "Breathe." He takes hold of the wolf's clawed hand and places it against his own cheest, breathing in and out deeply. "Just breathe like I am, okay? Just breathe."

Derek tries to take his hand off Stiles as soon as he's breathing normally, but Stiles isn't letting go. "Stiles, let go of my hand."

"No." Stiles stands his ground. "No."

Derek whines. "Stiles, I hurt you. I'm so sorry I did."

"I'm not," Stiles says pointedly. "I'm yours now. Meaning that I'm with you and that's all that matters. Listen to my heart beat when I tell you; I'm fine. I love you. I want to be with you. I'm on a hype now, so don't ruin it."

Derek smiles a little. "You're mine now. I love you, Stiles."

Stiles touches their foreheads together and nearly kisses him, but pulls back before they can.

"Can you please change back?" Stiles says. "I'm not really liking the feel of fangs in my mouth."

Derek returns to normal Derek, all sweaty and hot and sexy. Oh, Stiles has to undress him now.

"Take me to the bedroom," Stiles says and points to the stairs.

Derek's nose wrinkles in confusion. "Why?" Confused face.

"Well, we can't make love down here, can we?"

Derek growls and grabs Stiles.

* * *

"Why does Derek get angry if we touch Stiles?" Scott asks the pack later that week.

Lydia sighs, along with Erica and Allison. It's Lydia that answers him. "You can clearly see that Derek and Stiles are in love, right?"

"Look," Jackson says, getting up. "I'll go shove Stiles over, hard, and you see how Derek reacts and tell what it's like, yeah?"

Stiles is just standing on the porch, talking to Isaac about something very important when Jackson pushes him over. He falls and lands on his hand, but doesn't hurt himself badly. Just says, "Ow, Jackson! What the hell?"

And then out of nowhere, Derek pops up and is growling and nearly wolfing out. Jackson smiles back at Scott, who seems to have gotten it.

"Derek, calm down!" Stiles says, placing his hands on Derek's chest. "Calm down, I'm fine. See?"

Derek's eyes trail down Stiles' body and nods. "Don't. Ever. Push. Him. Again."

Jackson nods. "Noted."

"You and Derek are mates!" Scott screams and stands up from his place. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Scott, we did," Stiles points out.

"When?" Scott asks.

"Last week," the pack calls.

"SHUT UP!" Scott yells and sits back down, his wolfy ears red.

Derek kisses Stiles. "I love you."

"I love you too," Stiles says and smiles.

"Have you told your dad yet?" Isaac asks.

"Damn! I knew there was someone we forgot to tell!" Stiles exclaims. "Shit! He's going to kill you!"

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"You and Derek Hale?" The Sheriff says as he places his gun on the table. "So, you're together then?"

Derek nods and swallows. "Yes, Sir."

"And you've mated?" The sheriff asks.

Stiles nods this time. "Yeah, Dad. Sorry. We forgot to tell you. You didn't come to the pack meeting when you said you were going to."

"I was working that day, idiot!" John says to his son. "Now, Derek, what are your intentions with my son?"

"To love him and stay with him for the rest of my life," Derek answers immediately. Who would have known? Derek Hale spurts crap! For him!

His dad looks at Derek for a second before he nods. "Okay. Date curfew is eleven and no sex, okay?"

Derek looks at his lap sheepishly.

"Uh, Dad...?"

Stiles lunges over the table and grabs the gun just as his dad reaches for it. "You promised you weren't going to shoot him!"

"But you're my baby still!" John exclaims. "You aren't supposed to have sex until you're at least thirty four!"

Stiles shakes his head. "Stop being so silly. I've had sex with Derek, yes, but it was sweet love making, okay? Now that's the end of that. Who wants to discuss the wedding and baby names?"

It earns him two thumps: one from his dad, and one from Derek.

Maybe God is nice...ow, freaking coffee table! GOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD!

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**Hope you did like it!**


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